


Out Among The Stars

by perfect_plan



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, M/M, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Mentions of War, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sci-Fi, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-05 21:56:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15872493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfect_plan/pseuds/perfect_plan
Summary: Humanity is recovering from an intergalactic war. No longer in the military, hero Captain Steve Rogers seeks to rebuild his life by working on a small space freighter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you for all of the lovely comments I received when I posted my update! I had intended to respond but yet again, best intentions. Things are still busy but good and work has been keeping me from writing but here is the first part of this attempted sci-fi story. I tried to world-build a little bit and hope to have the second part done soon.

Steve hurried down the main concourse of New York Two, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He had plenty of time but he wanted to be early to make a good impression on his new crew. He was nervous as hell - he’d never captained anything beyond a military vessel before but now the war was over and he just wanted to be busy again and try to heal. Much like everyone else.

Steve had always liked New York Two. The sprawling spaceport always felt a little more real to him than San Fran Two or Los Angeles Two and a bit more like home. More than the real New York anyway. Or what was left of it. He followed the signs to the docking pylons and glanced up at the board to see where  _ The Shield _ was currently stationed. Dock 7. He made his way up to the pylon and he felt a surge of excitement and nerves when he saw the ship –  _ his _ ship – through the large window.

_ The Shield _ was an Io-Class ship whereas  _ The Avenger _ had been a Ganymede-Class so Steve wasn’t too worried about captaining something smaller. It was the smaller size of crew he was anxious about. Smaller crews were tighter and he was an outsider, one with a reputation at that. He had no idea how they were going to take him. Gazing out of the window, he could already feel himself being drawn to  _ The Shield _ though. It was a ship with character. It had a lived-in look. Most of the outer panels were mismatched but she looked sturdy and from the reports he had read, had an impressive number of runs to her compared to how often she needed major repairs. Despite his nerves, Steve had a good feeling about it. This could be a new beginning for him. As he approached the gate, a man waved to him.

“Captain Rogers?”

Steve recognised him from their correspondence right away. “Captain Wilson, hello.” He held out his hand.

Wilson laughed and shook. “Please, just Sam. The “captain” was just temporary and never really earned. More by default.”

Steve knew what had happened to the previous captain and nodded. “I’m sorry for your loss. I heard a lot about Captain Riley. He sounded like a good man.”

Sam’s face flickered with grief for a second. “He was,” he said softly. “I’ve heard great things about you too, Captain. Everyone has.”

They opened the gate and started to walk down the docking corridor to  _ The Shield _ ’s airlock.

“Call me Steve. And uh, yeah. I can assure you that the reality was probably far less impressive than the story that followed.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Really? Leading  _ The Avenger _ into a major dogfight and then single-handedly taking down Hydra’s mothership and disabling the entire fleet? Yeah, that sounds  _ dull _ , man.”

Steve laughed a little, feeling his face flush. “I can’t even get modesty right.”

Sam laughed too. “Dude, you’re a hero. But don’t worry, we won’t let it go to your head.”

Steve smiled gratefully. He already liked Sam.

They got to the airlock and Sam tapped on the keypad to open it. “We run pretty smoothly with the four – well, now five – of us and we have twenty ARTies on board.  _ The Shield _ isn’t a huge ship but she gets the job done. Hauling supplies around isn’t the most exciting business but we all like it.”

“Believe me,” Steve said, following Sam on board, “I’m pretty sick of excitement.”

Sam led Steve down to the bridge. “I had planned to get everyone together for a proper welcome but there’s always something to be done before we leave drydock.”

“Not a problem. I’d rather see everything working like this,” Steve said. “I’d like to call a brief before we leave though.”

“Sounds good.” Sam led him down the main corridor to the bridge. It wasn’t as big as  _ The Avenger _ ’s had been but Steve liked the individual stations with their personal effects; military ships were far stricter about appearance. A women with red hair was arguing with a sandy-haired man who was squinting at a screen on a console and fiddling with his ear. As they moved closer, Steve could see that he was wearing a hearing aid.

“I thought you said Remus-5,” the man said.

“No,” the woman said, in a voice that was sounded like she was talking to a child or a dog, “I said Neptune-8. Stop turning your fucking hearing aid off if you can’t even read my lips properly.”

The man threw his hands up. “Jeez, one little mistake.”

“Clint, you’re the navigator! One little mistake could send us into a black hole or a quarantine zone!”

“Guys,” Sam said loudly. “I’d like you to meet Steve Rogers. Our new captain.” He gave them both a pointed look. “Steve, this is Natasha Romanov, science officer. Clint Barton, navigator.”

Clint’s eyes lit up. “Oh wow! Hi,” Clint pumped Steve’s hand enthusiastically. “What an honor!”

Steve cleared his throat. “Uh...it’s...I guess.”

Natasha shook his hand too, her green eyes watching his sharply. “Kind of a humble assignment after your last one, Captain Rogers?”

“Nat,” Sam hissed.

Steve smiled. “It’s exactly what I’m looking for. And please, it’s Steve.”

“I was so bummed that  _ The Avenger _ wasn’t salvageable,” Clint said. “She was a sexy ship.”

Steve tasted a tang of iron on his tongue. He had loved  _ The Avenger _ and it still hurt that she’d been destroyed, even if it had been the intention. “It was worth the outcome,” he said.

“We’ll catch you guys in a while,” Sam said and Steve gave Natasha and Clint a wave and started to follow him off of the bridge.

“Does that ARTie have to follow you around everywhere?” Natasha said as they left and Steve saw one of the ship’s smaller robots bleeping at Clint’s feet.

“His name is Lucky and yes he does,” Clint said and Sam sighed heavily as they made their way down the corridor.

“Would you believe they’re married?” Sam asked Steve.

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

Sam shook his head. “Better get used to hearing them squabble. They’re professional as heck when they’re on the clock but when they’re not they’re either fighting or f...uh, making up.”

Steve laughed softly. “Hey, whatever gets them through long hauls.” The military had plenty to say about relationships on missions but people still needed each other for comfort during tough times, especially in space, and Steve had always turned a blind eye if it didn’t compromise anything. He hadn’t been in a relationship himself for years but he’d never wanted to deny them for other people.

They stopped at the deck-lift and walked in. “I’ll just introduce you to our mechanic and show you the engine room and cargo hold and then get you settled in your quarters. I’m sorry I haven’t got time to show you rest of the ship – med lab, common area, observation deck - but I have a meeting with StarkTech before we head out. So glad you’re here, man. I just want to be a pilot again.”

“That’s okay,” Steve said. “I’ll explore and get my bearings.”

“It’s pretty hard to get lost on here. There’s not a lot of ship.”

The engine room was busy; ARTies bustled to-and-fro with sheets of metal and tools and some of the bigger ones were hauling cargo into the cargo bay. Sam looked around and then looked up.

“There he is. Barnes. Barnes!” he shouted.

Steve glanced up. A man was suspended in a rope cradle, blow-torching a panel high up near the ceiling. He switched the torch off and glanced down. He was wearing goggles and a black face mask. His long hair was tucked behind his ears. An ARTie was waiting below him and watching, ready to hand him tools if he needed them. It bleeped at Sam and Steve in greeting.

“New captain,” Sam called, indicating to Steve.

The man started to lower himself down and Steve saw that his left arm was metal. He had cut off the sleeve of his flight suit so the arm was fully visible. He stood up when he reached the ground and the cradle had enough slack.

“Steve, this is James Barnes, our mechanic.”

James lifted the goggles and rested them on top of his head, pulling his mask down. He wiped his oily hands on a cloth tied to his belt. He didn’t smile. He had the saddest blue eyes Steve had ever seen.

“Nice to meet you, Captain Rogers.” His voice was soft and reserved.

Steve shook his hand. He guessed everyone knew who he was by now. “I look forward to working with you.”

James nodded and turned to Sam. “Can I go back up? I want to get that panel fixed so I can check on the ventilation system. Find out what’s making that rattling sound in the med lab.”

“Sure,” Sam said and James hoisted himself back up in the cradle.

Steve watched him go and then followed Sam through to the cargo bay, dodging the ARTies as they scuttled back and forth.

“He’s a little quiet,” Sam said. “He was with Riley…when he died. That’s how he lost the arm.”

“Jeez,” Steve said softly.

“It hit us all hard,” Sam said, his voice thick. He cleared his throat. “I’ll get you a copy of the manifest and which ARTies we assign here,” he said, quickly changing the subject. Steve knew enough not to press him. “The bigger ones tend to stay down here and manage the cargo.”

They walked through the bustling hold and Sam said hi to a few of the ARTies. Steve liked that the crew treated them less like Articulated Robotic Tools and more like crew members. ARTies were known to pick up human traits the more they were treated as such and it was comforting in a way to see several of them wave back to Sam and bleep happily. The military ARTies had always made Steve a little uneasy.

“We mostly haul tools, materials, long-shelf food for the outer colonies but occasionally we do other runs. Never weapons or any hazardous materials. I’ve heard of other Io-Classes taking prohibited hauls for money under the table but none of us here are comfortable with that.”

“I would never ask that of you,” Steve said.

The engine room was impressive for a ship of it’s size and Steve whistled softly when he saw the various modifications that had been made to the engine-core.

Sam grinned. “That’s all Barnes. He’s a genius. Stark keeps trying to nab him for engineering work but he’s happy right here.”

Steve ran his fingers lightly over some bright copper tack pipes interspersed with iron plates. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“The iron regulates the heat of the copper when the engine...does something I’m not going to pretend to even understand,” Sam laughed. “All I know is that Barnes did that while he was bored one day, the ship started to run better and now Stark is thinking about implementing it onto his newer ship models. He’s totally pissed that he didn’t think of it himself and went nuts when he saw it. One of the reasons he keeps trying to get Barnes to work for him.”

“Wow,” Steve said. “And he’s not interested at all?”

They started to head back to the deck-lift. “Nah,” Sam said. “Barnes doesn’t do loud and flashy. Let’s get you to your quarters and then I have to book.”

The quarters were all on the same deck and all the same size; a living room and small kitchenette, a bathroom and a bedroom. “No windows, I’m afraid,” Sam said as he showed Steve in.

Steve put his bag down. “That’s okay. I like using the observation decks for stargazing.”

“We generally have dinner together in the common room and rotate cooking duties. It’s just nice to all hang out and decompress at the end of a tough day. It’s not essential if you don’t want to though.”

“No, that sounds nice,” Steve said. “I’m not a bad cook either.”

Sam grinned. “I’ll make sure to tell everyone that. Here’s your com and your orgpad. Just schedule the briefing through that and I’ll make sure to be back ASAP. I can only take so much of Stark and all I want to do is wangle a few more ARTies out of him.”

Steve nodded. “Thank you, Sam.”

“We’re all happy you’re here, Steve.” Sam gave him a little salute and headed out.

*

Steve didn’t want to spend too much time in his quarters so he unpacked what little he had with him and changed into one of the flight suits that had been provided for him. They were dark blue and each one had ROGERS neatly marked on the front. He hoped everyone would call him Steve though. He’d had enough of being called Captain Rogers. He tapped out a briefing request on his orgpad and quickly skimmed over the ships schematics.

He left his quarters and got back in the deck-lift to check out the med lab. It was small and pristine with a well-stocked infirmary. Steve had some medical training but he knew that Natasha was a doctor as well as science officer and that Sam was also a medic. He liked to try and get the basics down for most things though; you never knew when you’d need to know a little of everything. Not that he could perform surgery or anything but he’d set his fair share of broken bones and stitched wounds during the war.

The common room was on the same deck as the med lab and Steve was pleasantly surprised as he walked in. It looked more like a college dorm, with books and movies cluttering shelves, posters and pictures tacked to the walls. There was one large table for eating and several comfy chairs and smaller tables dotted about. The kitchen area was tidy and inviting. He really wanted to be a part of this crew in more than just a professional sense and he already wanted to make the effort to join in with dinners and any social things they did together. He smiled to himself, the resolve that he’d made the right decision in taking this post cementing itself within him.

He would just go and check out the observation deck quickly and then head to the bridge. As Steve stepped out of the deck-lift onto the observation deck, his breath caught in his throat. The observation deck had been his favorite part of  _ The Avenger _ , somewhere quiet he could go to think or just get away from everything. They were considered a little old-fashioned now, with most starship crews preferring view screens but Steve loved that most ships still put in windows, plain and simple.  _ The Shield _ ’s observation deck was amazing – it was a long room with gunmetal grey walls and the window here was a huge convex oval. He walked over to it and sure enough, he could sit in it and be surrounded by space. Holy cow. He looked down into the void of stars surrounding New York Two, feeling a little dizzy but also elated. He would definitely be coming here a lot.

*

“Captain on the bridge!”

Natasha hissed. “Clint! Goddammit, hearing aid!”

Clint winced and fiddled with his ear again and waved apologetically at Steve. “Sorry, Sir. I kind of forget how loud I am when this thing is turned down.”

Steve smiled. “That’s okay. And please, call me Steve.”

Clint nodded. “Will do.” He turned to his console.

Natasha walked over to Steve. “Eager to get started?”

Steve bounced on the balls of his feet. “Eager and nervous.”

Natasha grinned. “We’ll go easy on you. One thing I wanted to talk to you about, speaking as a doctor. Pardon my bluntness but did you have counselling after the war?”

Steve wasn’t taken aback, in fact he was relieved. With the whole War Hero label, a lot of people assumed that he was fine. He’d led his ship into into a grand dogfight and, after ordering his crew to the life-pods, had single-handedly beat the bad guys. He must feel on top of the world, right? But there were dreams, losses, sounds and smells that reminded him of things he would never forget. People called him a hero but most days he didn’t feel like one.

“Yeah, I did. It helped.”

“I’m a therapist too so I can offer my services if you want someone to talk to. I need to do regular psychological evaluations but that stands for everyone. We’re pretty tight-knit on this ship but that doesn’t effect anything.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Science-officer, doctor  _ and _ therapist?”

Natasha grinned again but it was softer this time. “I’m a lot of things. The offer’s there.”

Steve nodded appreciatively. “Thank you, Natasha.”

“You’re welcome, Steve. And call me Nat.” She headed back to her console.

Steve sat down at his console and got to grips with the layout. He had piloted an Io-Class once, back in his air force days so it was familiar. He unzipped one of the pockets of his flight suit and pulled out the laminated photograph within. He tacked it to his console.

Sam was back onboard twenty minutes later and looking like he’d aged about ten years. “Ugh,” he groaned.

Clint snorted. “That bad?”

Sam rubbed his eyes. “Every minute spent with Stark feels like twelve months. I swear time moves around the man in dog years.”

“Any luck with your request?” Steve asked.

“Six new ARTies. He’ll have them ready when we finish this run.”

“Way to go!” Clint said. “Does this mean I can keep Lucky in my quarters?”

“ _ Our _ quarters and no, it does not,” Nat said. “That thing has picked up your snoring.”

“But that’s so cute,” Clint said. “He’s copying me.”

Everyone’s orgpads beeped then and James walked onto the deck.

“Timing,” Sam said with a smile.

James smiled back but it was a little stilted. He had his goggles around his neck. He glanced over at Steve. “Briefing?”

Steve stood and nervously tugged at his flight-suit as the others gathered around. “Um, I just wanted to say a proper hello and thank you all for choosing me for this post. I know I have a reputation but if it’s okay with all of you, I’m trying to leave that behind. I’m not ashamed but...I’m not military any more and I kind of just want to live my life now. The war was hard on everyone, I know that.” There was a ripple that passed through everyone then; even a freighter like  _ The Shield _ had seen the fighting and the aftermath. Steve knew that Riley’s death had been a result of Hydra damage. “I...guess I just want to say that please don’t think I’m expecting anything of any of you other than what you already give.” His shoulders sagged. What a terrible speech.

But Clint smiled gratefully and Nat was looking at him thoughtfully. Sam clapped him on the shoulder. James glanced at him. He was only person who Steve couldn’t get a read on.

“Okay, well, departure in ninety minutes.” Steve fumbled with his orgpad.

Nat and Clint returned to their consoles and James left the bridge. Sam came over to Steve’s station, noticing the photo he had stuck there.

“Your mom?” he asked.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. She died during the first Hydra wave.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said. “We all lost too many. You helped to end all of that though and I know a lot of people who would want to thank you for that.”

Steve sighed. “I must seem very selfish, not wanting it.”

Sam shook his head. “Not at all. It’s a lot for anyone to have hanging on their shoulders.” He tapped on his orgpad. “Can I just talk to you about our ARTie assignments before I show you the engine-test sequence?”

Steve was thankful for the change in subject but Sam’s words lingered with him until they were ready to go.

*

“Clint, that’s disgusting.”

“But he’s licking me! It’s so cute!” Lucky was secreting something onto Clint’s shoe.

Nat’s face creased in disgust. “What is that? Is that  _ lube _ ?”

“Well, yeah. He’s a robot. He doesn’t have spit.”

They were an hour into their haul and Steve finally relaxed a little. The crew had followed his orders and their departure had been smooth. That was less to do with him and more to do with how everyone worked as a team though. It felt good, to be part of a crew again. He swivelled around in his chair and tried not to smile at Clint and Nat’s bickering.

“Okay, I’m going to have a wander around and make some notes,” Steve said. “If there’s anything essential anyone feels I need to know, just zap it across on your orgpad. I’ll read everything I get given.”

“Aye, Cap,” Nat said and stretched as she got up. “I’ll be in med lab if anyone needs me.” She bent down and kissed Clint before leaving.

“Flight path is locked in for the next four hours so I’m going to catch up on some logging,” Sam said, getting comfy at his station.

“Want some coffee?” Clint asked.

Sam nodded frantically. “Please.”

“Steve?” Clint asked.

Steve shook his head. “Thank you, but maybe later.”

Clint grinned and saluted and left the bridge. Steve smiled. If this was how things ran on this ship, he thought it was going to do him the world of good. Everyone was professional and great at their jobs but there was an informal air that he just hadn’t experienced in the military and realised he desperately needed.

“You okay there, Steve?” Sam asked, amused.

“Yeah. Just enjoying the moment,” Steve said and went to do his rounds.

*

He spent the next three hours scouring the ship, learning as much as he could. He stopped each ARTie he ran into and asked them questions about their duties. Most of them had names that had been given to them by the crew and they were delightfully polite. They were obviously treated very well. He’d seen people treat ARTies like shit just because they were robots and that had never sit well with him. ARTies could learn and adapt and develop personalities and to him, that meant treating them with respect. He’d been laughed at a few times for voicing this opinion back in the fleet but he knew the crew of  _ The Shield _ wouldn’t laugh if he said as much.

Steve got into the deck-lift with an ARTie headed down to the cargo hold. The ARTie was whistling to itself and Steve felt a little silly for finding that so sweet. The cargo hold was busy so he tried to stay out of the way and tapped out his notes as quickly as he could. He decided to go and have a look at the engine-room, if only to admire the modified core again.

James was taking readings from some temp gauges when Steve walked in. He looked up, apprehensive.

“Please don’t mind me,” Steve said. “I’m just trying to get the lay of the land.” James nodded and watched as Steve walked around the core. “This is amazing work.”

“Thank you,” James said quietly.

Steve couldn’t help but look at James’s artificial arm. It was beautiful, with brushed metal plates that shifted as James moved.

“StarkTech,” James muttered when he caught Steve looking.

“It’s incredible,” Steve said. “Do you maintain it yourself?”

James nodded. “Stark showed me how.”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment. Steve knew he shouldn’t feel awkward – he was the captain – but he was on somebody else’s turf here, trying to fit in.

“Um, if there’s anything you feel I need to know, please don’t hesitate to...” Steve waved his orgpad.

James just nodded again and regarded him with those sad blue-grey eyes. “Yes, Sir.”

He already asked James to call him Steve but he wasn’t going to keep pushing the issue. “See you at dinner,” he said and hurried out.

*

Steve decided to finish his rounds off in med lab and then he would head back to the bridge. When he walked in, Nat was looking through a microscope at some slides.

“Hello,” she said, without looking up. “How are you finding our little ship?”

“It’s wonderful,” Steve said. “Smaller than I’m used to but in a good way.” He planted himself on one of the chairs along the bench she was working at and fiddled with his orgpad.

Nat finished up with her slide, scribbled a few notes and placed it on the tray the ARTie next to her was holding patiently. “Put that in cabinet A7-C, please.” The ARTie bleeped happily and trundled off. Nat turned her attention to Steve. “What can I help you with?”

Steve tapped his orgpad against the bench. “You mentioned therapy earlier...”

“Are you interested?” Nat asked, folding her arms.

“Not quite yet but does James talk to you? He seems very...closed off.”

Nat took a deep breath through her nose. “He does. I can’t talk about that though.”

Steve shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t ask you to.”

“We’ve all been through a lot on this ship,” Nat said quietly. “The war touched everything. James...he’s been through more than his share of shit, even before Riley died and he lost his arm. He’s dealing with things the only way he knows how to at the moment.”

Steve nodded. “You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do? I don’t just want to be the captain. I want...” He hesitated, suddenly feeling silly.

“Friends?” Nat asked softly. She smiled but it was warm and genuine.

Steve smiled back wryly. “Do I come across as that pathetic?”

“No, you come across as someone who needs some normal in his life. Well, as normal as you can get in a tin can in space.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah. Thank you, Nat.”

“My pleasure.” She waved to the ARTie with the tray. “Come on, you.” It bleeped and joined Nat again, holding the tray up eagerly.

Steve left and headed to the bridge.

*

Sam and Clint were huddled together at Clint’s console when Steve walked in with three coffees.

Clint’s eye’s lit up. “Oh  _ baby _ . Uh, I mean the coffee, obviously. Not you,” Clint said to Steve. “I’m married. Not that I wouldn’t - you’re a very attractive man.”

Steve laughed and handed them both a mug. “Thank you, Clint.”

Sam nodded gratefully at him and took a gulp of coffee. He looked pinched, not as calm and put together as he had been. “Can we talk to you about something?”

“Sure,” Steve said and joined them in looking at Clint’s console.

Sam pointed to a dark cluster on one of the SET maps. “Looks like we got a small asteroid field heading our way. Normally, I wouldn’t be so worried but it’s moving pretty fast and we had a close-call with a hull breach a few months back. Me and Clint have run the numbers and we can change course within the next twenty minutes and avoid it. It’ll make us six hours late to our drop-off though.”

Steve nodded. “I’d rather that than jeopardise the crew or ship’s safety. Do what you have to do and I’ll get on the coms to the drop-off point, explain the situation. It’s a non-urgent payload so I’m sure we can spare the hours.”

Sam looked relieved and Steve noticed that he had been shaking slightly. “Aye. I’m just gonna go and explain the situation to Barnes. We might need to make an additional fuel run if we burn too much during the circumvention. Clint, you’re good to punch in the new co-ordinates.”

When Sam was out of the room, Clint looked up at Steve, catching how he watched Sam leave the bridge. “We were in an asteroid field when Hydra hit us and Riley died,” he said softly. “Fuck that war.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed softly. “Fuck that war.” He went over to his station and sat down, syncing his orgpad to his own console to work through his notes a little more extensively. His mood had dipped a little. As much as he’d come here to get away from the war, it still hung over everyone. He wanted to help but he wasn’t sure how. Being a war hero wasn’t enough if he couldn’t do something on a personal level. Sometimes it felt like things would never be normal again.

_ Fuck that war. _

*

Steve’s mood picked up at dinner. They were on their new route and he had spoken to their drop-off liaison and everything was fine. James and Sam had secured a fuelling point and they could sit pretty for the next seven hours and just run the ship.

Steve had been nervous joining the others for dinner but as soon as he stepped into the common room, his nerves faded. Sam was cooking something that smelled incredible as Clint played with Lucky, the ARTie that followed him everywhere. Nat was lounging in one of the easy chairs with a soda as a blues song played softly over the coms.

“Here he is,” Sam said with a smile. “Take a seat, dinner’s almost ready.”

“Sam’s Secret Chicken,” Clint said. “You’ll never go back.” He tossed Steve a soda.

Steve smiled and sat down at the communal table. “Smells great.”

James walked in and slid into a seat at the furthest end of the table. He glanced at Steve and nodded.

Nat heaved herself up and joined everyone at the table and they passed the food around – chicken and vegetables and corn – and Steve just listened contentedly to their talk and banter. James said nothing as he ate but smiled at the occasional quip.

Sam cleared his throat and stood. “I would like to propose a toast -”

Clint and Nat both groaned.

“- shaddup, to our new Captain.” He raised his soda. “Feels good to be hauling again.”

Clint and Nat raised their sodas too and James fiddled with his and looked at the table.

“Um, thank you. It was great first day,” Steve said, feeling his face flush a little.

“It’ll get even better when you see the stack of daily paperwork you have to sign-off on each day,” Clint said with a grin, a chunk of broccoli stuck between his front teeth.

Steve laughed softly. “I don’t think it’ll be half as bad as military paperwork.”

“Do you think you’d ever want to serve again?” Nat asked.

Steve chewed on his lip. “No.”

James stood up and took the empty plates to the sink. “Thanks for dinner,” he said to Sam and left.

Clint sighed softly as he watched James leave and Nat rubbed his back before getting up herself. “I’m going to finish up in med lab and then hit the sack. I’m on third watch.”

“I’ll do the dishes,” Steve offered but Sam waved him off. “We’ll let you off the hook for tonight. Besides, you’d better get started on that paperwork.”

Steve said thank you and goodnight and headed to his station. He groaned a little when he saw the paperwork but slid into his console and made a start. It wasn’t too bad and he was enjoying the sounds that  _ The Shield _ made; hums and beeps that were unfamiliar to him but not unpleasant. If anything, it was kind of comforting. After forty-five minutes, his neck was starting to hurt so he decided to head to his quarters for a shower and finish the rest of his work before bed. As he was leaving, Sam came on the bridge with a paperback book under one arm and a big mug of coffee.

“First watch?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. At least I won’t have a broken night’s sleep.”

“Hey, thanks for today. You really helped to ease me in. I appreciate it,” Steve said.

Sam smiled. “You’re going to do just fine on  _ The Shield _ , Steve.”

They said goodnight and Steve went to his quarters where he stayed under the shower for a long time. On  _ The Avenger _ , the showers hadn’t been anywhere near as good or as hot and it felt like heaven. He washed his hair and sang softly to himself before he got out, dressing in a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. He glanced at the remaining paperwork and decided that he didn’t want to sit in here and finish so he left his quarters to go up to the observation deck.

He ran into a couple of ARTies who greeted him and as he stepped out of the deck-lift and saw the view beyond the observation bubble, he gasped softly. God, he would never get tired of being in space; it was so beautiful. For a lot of people, the excitement of being in space dulled pretty quickly but not for him. He walked over to the huge convex window and looked out into stars and quiet and peace. Steve had always been a romantic at heart and space brought out the sap in him. He sighed contentedly, feel the weight of the day melt from his body.

“Better than a hot bath,” he muttered to himself.

“Quite a sight, huh,” someone said softly behind him and Steve started, dropping his paperwork to the floor in a flourish of loose papers. He turned and James was sitting against the wall opposite the window.

Steve flushed. He had just assumed that no-one else would be here and he’d been talking to himself. “Sorry, I thought I was alone,” he said as he bent to collect his work.

James came over and helped him silently and Steve nodded in thanks. James returned to his spot by the wall. “I’m the only one who ever really comes up here.”

“Me too. I mean, on  _ The Avenger _ I seemed to be the only person who ever used the observation deck and that was a ship of fifteen hundred people.” He shrugged. “Guess I’m just old fashioned.” He cleared his throat awkwardly when James said nothing. “I just came up here to finish my work. I always sleep better after I’ve watched the stars for a while.”

James made a surprised huff. “Me too.”

Steve sat down by the window and shuffled through his papers. “It sounds silly but I find it hard to stay Earth-side for long periods now. My friends used to joke that I’d become spacebound. It’s kind of true though. I’ve always felt way more comfortable up here.”

James said nothing after that and Steve was a little disappointed; it had been nice to actually talk. He tried not to take it personally though – it was only his first day – and quietly got on with his work. After thirty minutes, James got up and headed out of the observation deck.

Before he left, he turned to Steve. “Goodnight.” His brown hair flopped over his eyes and he walked away.

“Goodnight,” Steve said.

*

They arrived earlier than planned at the drop-off station and everyone was in good spirits for it. The station wasn’t anything grand like any of the City-Two Spaceports – just one of the smaller hubs that were found all over the galaxy. It had a large concourse with a bar and other amenities though and given that they weren’t too far behind their schedule, Steve gave everyone a couple of hours off of the ship. He stayed behind to help the ARTies and their client to unload but it all went smoothly and Steve had a half-hour to himself before they had to board and move on to the next cargo drop-off. He decided to just have a walk around the small station before heading back to  _ The Shield _ .

As he was strolling by a couple of stores and idly looking at the goods in the windows, he noticed James up ahead. He was outside of the bar talking to a dark-haired man. Two other men were beside him. But as Steve got closer, he noticed the tense set of James’s shoulders. This wasn’t a friendly conversation.

“Everything alright?” he said as he drew up alongside James.

James’s eyes were angry but the tenseness in his shoulders eased a little. “Yes, Sir.”

The dark-haired man sneered. “Sir?”

Steve automatically didn’t like this guy, whoever he was. His whole demeanour felt cruel and off-putting. The man turned and looked Steve up and down and Steve couldn’t deny the smug thrill when the man recognized him and there was a brief but satisfying flash of nervousness in his eyes.

“Captain Rogers, right?”

“That’s me,” Steve said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his flight suit. The action was a barb. No handshake for this douchebag.

The man smiled but there was nothing friendly about it. “The hero of the hour, in the flesh.” He nodded to James. “I was just catching up with my pal here.”

“We’re not  _ pals _ ,” James said coldly.

Steve decided it was best to get James away from this guy and get back  _ The Shield _ . He didn’t like anything about this at all. “We need to get going. Got a busy schedule.”

“Well, la-de-dah,” the dark-haired man said. “See you around, Barnes.”

James turned and started to walk away. “Not if I can help it, Rumlow.”

Steve’s hands clenched hard in his pockets. “Brock Rumlow?”

Rumlow smiled that not-quite smile again. “Captain of  _ The Strike _ . I’m surprised a big shot like you has heard of me.”

Anger and bile rose up in Steve but he swallowed it back. “Oh, I’ve heard of you,” he said and his voice was ice. “A lot of us have heard of you.”

Rumlow paled a little but had the audacity to step closer to Steve. “Yeah? And what?”

Steve didn’t take his eyes from Rumlow’s. “And nothing,” Steve said. He looked Rumlow up and down, mirroring the other man’s earlier action, and gave a soft snort. “Absolutely nothing.”

Rumlow’s face clouded. “How many people died under your command,  _ Captain?  _ Quite a few, right?”

Steve stiffened and Rumlow immediately saw that he had hit a nerve. Steve wanted nothing more than to deck this asshole but that wasn’t going to happen. He was taller than Rumlow and he leaned over him a little. “It was nice to finally meet you in person,” he said and even he was surprised at the venom in his own voice.

Rumlow backed off a little but Steve was glad to see uncertainty in his eyes. “Whatever.” He nodded to the two guys with him and they strode off down the concourse without looking back.

Steve let out a shaky breath and turned to walk back to  _ The Shield,  _ willing himself to remain calm and not let Rumlow’s words shake him. James was a few feet away from him, watching Steve intently.

“You know him?” he asked.

Steve shook his head. “Not exactly. You?”

“We crewed together when we were just out of the academy. We’re not friends.” His voice was hard.

“Good,” Steve said and started to walk. James followed him.

“What was all that about?”

Steve glanced at James. “I’m sorry. I can’t...it’s military. Classified.”

They both got to  _ The Shield _ and as they stepped inside the airlock, Steve let out a frustrated grunt and James turned to him, watching him patiently. Steve rubbed his face, trying not to let his hands shake.

“Can you promise me that this won’t go any further?”

James nodded.

“Before I led the last retaliation, we found out that a human had been feeding Hydra all of our military intel. Most of us didn’t even know the guy when we found out his name but by then, the war was over and any proof of his betrayal had long since been destroyed.”

James’s eyes went wide with shock and anger. “Rumlow?”

“Yep,” Steve said and leaned his forehead against the cool metal of the airlock. “And there’s absolutely nothing anyone can do to him now. He got away with it. So many people died because of him. And me. A lot of people died under my command before I did what I had to do.” The guilt he had been carrying with him since long before the war had ended threatened to consume him again. “So many,” he said, his voice catching.

There was a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t,” James said softly. “Don’t let him and his words get to you. You’re a good man. He isn’t.”

Steve swallowed and turned to look at James and his eyes were understanding. “The war is over but in a lot of ways, it isn’t.”

“Believe me, I know,” James said, his voice still soft.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have burdened you with that information. It wasn’t for me to tell,” Steve said. “It was unprofessional.”

“You didn’t burden me,” James said and gave Steve some space. “You shared it and maybe now it’s not so heavy for you to carry.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. This was the most he’d ever said to James and the most James had ever said to him.

“I need to go and do an engine test,” James said and started to walk away.

“Thank you, James,” Steve called after him.

James stopped and turned around, rubbing his right arm with the metal one. “Bucky. Everyone calls me Bucky.”

Then he disappeared through the airlock and into the ship.

*

The encounter with Rumlow played over in Steve’s mind long after they were en-route to their next drop-off. He would never tamp down the guilt over everything from the war, he knew that, but Rumlow’s words burned through him. Could he have made better decisions? Could he have saved more lives? The weight of it dragged him down, like gravity was getting heavier. Sam noticed his silences but didn’t say anything, perceptive enough to give Steve space.

He went up to the observation deck every evening but James – Bucky – was never there. At dinner he was quiet and kept to himself and spent the rest of his time in the engine room or cargo bay. The encounters that Steve had with him were merely professional and Steve wondered if he had made a mistake in telling him about Rumlow. He was disappointed too; he thought that they had shared something. He was slowly starting to bond with his new crew mates but Bucky was still out of reach.

Four nights after their run in at the space port, Steve was in his quarters unable to sleep. He threw back his bed covers, threw on some sweats and headed to the bridge. Sam was on third watch.

“Hey man,” he said when Steve walked in. He was reading a dog-eared paperback. Steve liked that the crew had real books. He liked digibooks but there was something comforting about the smell and feel of real books in deep space.

“Hey,” Steve said. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d...” He waved his hand uncertainly.

Sam nodded to a chair and Steve sat, wringing his hands. “Want to talk about it?” Sam asked, his eyes kind. Steve liked him a lot.

“Just…guilt. How do you store it?”

Sam smiled sadly. “That I cannot answer. Most of us haven’t figured it out yet.”

Steve ran his hands through his short blond hair. “Worth a shot.”

“Have you spoken to Nat yet? About everything?”  _ Everything _ meaning the war.

“I’m not quite ready for that yet,” Steve said.

They sat in silence for a little while, the ship humming around them.

“Riley was my best friend,” Sam said quietly. “We grew up together, joined the academy together, crewed together. Not a day goes by where I don’t feel guilty about what happened to him and Barnes. I was the pilot. I flew us into the asteroid field. I thought...I thought I could get us through it and away from Hydra but then we sustained damage and Hydra hit us on top of that anyway and...” He shook his head and then looked up at Steve. “Everyone told me I’d made the right call, even Barnes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about what could have happened had I made a different one. The asteroid field might have given us enough cover not to be totally destroyed by the Hydra warship but Riley died and Barnes lost his arm. Had I flown us around, would we have escaped or would the warship have had a clearer shot to turn us all into dust? I have to  _ believe _ I made the right call or it’ll eat me alive.”

“I’m so sorry,” Steve said quietly.

Sam looked at him. “I know what kind of calls you would have had to make. You saved millions of lives, Steve. No joke. We can’t stop the guilt we feel but maybe we can try our best to weigh it up.”

Steve looked down at his hands. “I just wake up each day hoping it will feel better. Even just a little.”

“We all do. And it will. It will.”

Steve stood up. “Thank you for telling me. About Riley.”

Sam smiled sadly. “You would have liked him.”

“I have no doubt about that.” Steve patted Sam on the shoulder and left the bridge.

*

He went up to the observation deck before heading back to his quarters, wanting to look at the stars. An ARTie greeted him cheerfully on the way and Steve couldn’t help but smile. The ARTies on  _ The Shield _ were the happiest he’d ever seen and that made  _ him _ happy; there were good people in the universe and if they could influence artificial intelligence to be content and decent then there was hope for humanity. He had known that there had been a lot of good people throughout the war with Hydra – of course he had – but there had been enough people like Rumlow that had been more than willing to sell out and kill thousands of people to save their own skins rather than fight.

Steve stopped as he entered the observation deck. Bucky was sitting in front of the huge convex window, gazing out at the stars. He turned and looked up when Steve wandered over.

“Mind if I sit?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded. “I was hoping you would.”

Steve sat down and they were both quiet for a little while.

“Sorry if it seems like I’ve been avoiding you,” Bucky said eventually, still watching the points of light outside. “Just needed time to think. About Rumlow and just...stuff.”

“It’s okay,” Steve said. “It wasn’t really fair of me to offload on you.”

“You needed to and I didn’t mind. It just cemented what I already knew about him and I was angry. Taking it out by working and ignoring everything is just my way of dealing with things. Not the best way, I know.” Bucky sighed and it was long and deep. “I’ve never put much stock into people. I was raised by shitty parents, bounced around to shitty relatives and by the time I finished my time in the academy, I knew I would spend as much time up here as I could, away from Earth. I just feel... _ right _ up here. I never felt right back there. Then the war happened and everything was even more fucked up. It just never seems to stop.”

Steve took all of that in. “I know how you feel. Well, kind of,” he said softly. “I always thought I would retire after my military career and go back to Earth and help to rebuild it but now...” he swallowed hard and looked out into the twinkling void. “Now, I just want to stay up here and try to rebuild myself. Selfish, huh?”

Bucky watched him solemnly. “Not selfish at all. Not after what you’ve been through.”

Steve looked at Bucky’s metal arm. “Sam told me about Riley.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, his voice quiet and hard. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I went out to help Riley when we took damage in the asteroid field. We couldn’t get away from Hydra and...it happened. Woke up in the infirmary to be told that Riley and my arm had been vaporized. Sam still blames himself but he shouldn’t; he made the right call and Riley and I knew what we were getting into when we went out to make repairs. If anything, I could have tried to...” He shook his head lightly. “What good do we do to go around in circles blaming ourselves for everything?”

“But then you feel guilty for trying to move on,” Steve added.

Bucky smiled sadly and looked at Steve. “Yeah.”

Steve leaned back against the observation window and looked up through the curved hard-plex into space. “Maybe all we can do is try to help each other to move on. Me, you, Sam, Clint and Nat. I’d really like us all to be friends and a team. I like this ship. I like the way you all treat each other. I even like the ARTies.”

Bucky shuffled over and sat next to Steve, gazing up. “I’ve never done this before,” he murmured. “I feel like I’m floating.”

The ship hummed around them and Steve could feel the warmth of Bucky next to him. It was so nice just to sit with someone and watch the stars. His eyelids suddenly felt heavy.

“I want that too,” Bucky said softly, rousing Steve out of his doze. “Everything you said. I’ve been apart from everyone for too long.”

“We don’t have to be alone up here,” Steve said and they stared at each other for a long moment.

Bucky stood then and held out a hand for Steve. “You look wiped. Go and sleep.”

Steve nodded. They left the observation deck and both headed down to the living quarters.

“Goodnight, Bucky,” Steve said when he reached his door.

Bucky shoved his hands into the pockets of his flight suit. “Goodnight, Steve.” Steve watched as Bucky walked away and then he turned and headed down the corridor to his own room.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve eases into his role as Captain of The Shield.

When Steve woke up the following morning, he felt good. Better than he had for a long time. He stared up at the grey ceiling of his small bedroom for a while. He reached across to his bedside unit and grabbed his orgpad, checking his list of tasks for the day. He crossed Clint off of dinner duty and added his name and a note: ABOUT TIME I TREATED YOU ALL TO MY SPECIAL PASTA. DON’T BE LATE. He grinned to himself and went to have a shower.

It was a good day. Steve felt energized and his mood seemed to rub off on everyone. Work was smooth and everyone seemed happy. Steve even caught Nat throwing a ball of paper for Lucky to chase after with a smile on her face.

Later that day, Steve started to cook for everyone in the common room and his mood lifted even more. He enjoyed cooking for people and he felt relaxed as everyone laughed and ate. Bucky looked over to him every so often with a soft look that Steve couldn’t quite figure out that made him feel pleased and nervous at the same time. He even joined in with some of the banter and the rest of the crew seemed to be surprised and delighted, not minding when Bucky excused himself to go back down to the engine room. He tidied away some empty dishes on the table and nodded his thanks to Steve before he left.

Sam turned to Steve when Bucky was out of earshot. “Wow, you just managed to do in a couple of weeks what we haven’t been able to do in the last however many months. He hasn’t been like that for a long time.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Steve said as he watched the crew’s faces watching him, all eager for an explanation.

Clint turned to Nat. “He did do something, right? You speak to Bucky more than any of us.”

Nat scowled. “Doctor-patient confidentiality, come on.”

Clint snorted. “Well, he did _something_.”

“We’ve talked a few times is all. I think we just have some shared life experiences,” Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t we all,” Sam said. He stood up and motioned to Clint. “You’re helping me to clean up.”

Clint shoved the last of his garlic bread into his mouth and groaned but got up anyway. “Thanks, Steve,” he said. “You can take over my dinner rotation any time.”

Steve chuckled. “Glad you liked it.”

Steve left the common room and started to head to the bridge. Nat jogged up to him and fell into step as he walked down the corridor.

“Whatever it is you _are_ doing, keep it up. I haven’t seen James like this for a long time,” she said.

“Like what?” Steve asked.

“Hopeful.”

Steve shoved his hands into his pockets. “We really have just talked, that’s all. I don’t think I’m the one to fix him.”

“He doesn’t need to be fixed. None of us do. We just all need some mild calibration.”

Steve laughed softly. Nat smiled and waved as she stepped into the deck lift.

He walked the rest of the way to the bridge with that thought. _Mild calibration_.

*

Every night from then on, Bucky would be up on the observation deck and he and Steve would mostly just sit together and watch the stars before bed. It was nice. They didn’t need to talk all that much although Steve liked to. He didn’t want to push Bucky with anything but he also didn’t really feel like he needed to. He just liked being with Bucky and that also scared him a little. It had been so long since Steve had been even remotely attracted to anyone and the fact that he found Bucky attractive was throwing him for six. He liked the way Bucky spoke, he liked the way he took great pride in his work and how skilled he was, he liked the way Bucky looked. Whether Bucky saw him in any way other than his captain remained to be seen. He seemed to enjoy Steve’s company but that was it. Steve wouldn’t even know what to do if Bucky liked him back. He was so out of practice it was almost hilarious; another thing he could thank the war for. Nearly everything personal had been stripped from him and he was building himself up from scratch again, remembering what kind of person he had been before. But then maybe Bucky was too.

*

They had not long left San Fran Two one morning with a fresh haul when Sam groaned from his console.

Steve turned in his chair at his own console. “What’s up?”

“Stark just sent through the new upgrade package for all of the ARTies.”

“And that’s bad because…?”

Sam sighed. “It takes forever and he never just sends out a package that can be done at once. Every ARTie needs to be upgraded separately.”

“Will that effect our journey time?” Steve asked.

Sam leaned over and spoke into his intercom. “Let’s find out. Yo Barnes. You got a minute?”

Bucky was on deck ten minutes later covered in grease and looking mildly annoyed. An ARTie trailed after him, desperately trying to pass him a spanner. “What’s so urgent? I was up to my ass taking care of a blockage in one of the ducts.”

“ARTie upgrade from Stark,” Sam said and passed Bucky his orgpad.

Bucky grunted. “That guy’s timing is the worst. It’s not like we can upgrade them in dribs and drabs. They all have to be upgraded at the same time. Would’ve been easier when we were still in drydock.”

“How long will it take?” Steve asked.

“Eight hours if I start now, maybe five if I get some help.” He glanced over at the rest of the crew.

Sam held his hands up. “I’m on first and second watch. No can do.”

Clint shrugged apologetically. “It’s mine and Nat’s anniversary, hence Sam pulling double watch.”

“Happy Anniversary,” Bucky said with a frown but he didn’t contest it.

“I’ll help,” Steve said. “The sooner we upgrade these guys the better.” He waved at the ARTie next to Bucky who in turn made a pleased whistling noise and waved back.

“I think he likes you,” Bucky said and grunted as the ARTie tried to shove the spanner back at him again.

Steve tapped away on his orgpad. “Give me a half hour to check what ARTies are where and we can go to them and upgrade. Try not to upset the schedule too much.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Sounds good to me. I’ll be in the cargo hold.” He left with the ARTie trailing behind him. “Would you just put that god damn spanner away? I don’t need it right now.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at Steve.

“What?” Steve asked.

“Nothing, Cap,” Sam said and Steve swore he was holding back a smirk.

*

Steve estimated that the upgrades would take at least five and a half to six hours and that they should get started ASAP. Bucky wanted the ARTies in the cargo hold upgraded first as they were the primary bulk handlers and they’d be stuck if the cargo bots were out of commission for too long.

“Have you ever upgraded ARTies before?” Bucky asked.

Steve shook his head. “No, I always meant to learn with some of the tech guys on _The Avenger_ but never got around to it.” _Never got around to it_ meaning the war.

Bucky nodded. “It’s pretty easy but each ARTie is configured differently and needs to be calibrated separately which it why we can’t just do a bulk upgrade. We’ll do a few together so you can get the hang of it and then we’ll do as many as we can between the two of us. Sound okay?”

“Lead the way.”

Bucky called over one of the larger ARTies and showed Steve which port to use and how to make sure the upgrade was downloading.

“And then it’s just a matter of following the instructions here -” he flipped open a panel with a display - “and then we’re good to go.”

Steve watched Bucky work until the ARTie was done. He patted the large robot on the head. “All done, Wilson. Thanks.”

The ARTie chirped happily and went back to work.

“Do all the ARTie’s have names on the ship?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, it’s hard not to give them names when you get to know them. They’re all pretty distinctive.” Bucky turned to the ARTie that had been following him earlier. “This is Charlie. He works with me all day pretty much. That’s Gordon and that’s Toot.” He pointed as he spoke.

Steve smiled. “I like that. On _The Avenger_ , they were all just numbers. I felt sorry for a lot of them. I’m glad they’re treated better on this ship.”

“Do you know why I like ARTies so much?” Bucky said as another one trundled over for its upgrade.

“Why?” Steve said as he watched Bucky work.

“The better you treat them, the more their neural cortex pathways develop and with it, their personalities. They’re literally designed to mimic the behaviour of the humans they work with. Well, within reason thanks to the three laws. But you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their ARTies.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” Steve said and he felt a pang of sadness for the ARTies that had been on _The Avenger._ They had been flat and, well, robotic. Here on _The Shield_ they were quirky and happy. “ But...does that mean that Clint acts like a dog around his ARTie?”

Bucky burst out laughing and all of the ARTies in the immediate area stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Bucky. Steve could see the confusion in their mannerisms and he was suddenly hit with a deep pang of sadness.  _They’ve never heard him laugh before,_ he thought.

Bucky didn’t notice though and just shook his head as he finished up with the ARTie in front of him. “Oh man, I’m saving that one for a rainy day. How has nobody pointed that out before?”

Steve grinned. “As long he does his job, I’d rather not know what goes on behind his closed doors.”

Bucky looked at Steve and the smile on his face was genuine and bright. “Come on. Let’s get these guys upgraded.”

For the next few hours they worked steadily and Steve got to know the robots on the ship a little better. More than that, he got to know Bucky better. Whether it was because he was in his element with his work or that he was enjoying Steve’s company (Steve hoped it was a little from column A, a little from column B), he seemed happier, more open. They talked about everything but the war: Favorite foods, favorite books, the worst ships they had served on, the worst food they had eaten spaceside. Laughter came easily and Steve was having the best time.

“Let’s take a break,” Bucky said as he closed the configuration panel of the ARTie he was working on and checked hos orgpad. “We’re over half-way through and I need a coffee.”

Steve looked at his watch in surprise. The time had flown by. “Yeah, coffee sounds good.”

They stopped by the kitchen and took their drinks up to the observation deck. Bucky sat against the wall opposite the window and Steve joined him. The ship hummed around them and Steve felt truly content. He sighed happily.

“What’s up, Cap?” Bucky asked.

Steve smiled. “Nothing. Actually...nothing. At this moment in time, nothing at all.”

Bucky smiled back at him. “You know, you’re the best thing that’s happened to this ship for a long time.”

Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“We were struggling. Sam was technically next-in-command but he didn’t want to try and fill Riley’s shoes. We were all dreading who we’d get assigned as captain. Then we heard it was you and no-one could quite believe it.” Bucky turned to the observation window and sipped his coffee. “You’ve made this ship feel alive again.”

Steve didn’t quite know what to say to that. “I’m nothing special,” he managed at last.

Bucky turned back to him. “You are,” he said softly.

Steve’s throat felt tight and dry. There were so many things he wanted to say – about the war, about being on this ship, how both things had changed the person he used to be – but he couldn’t say them.

Bucky stood up and held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s finish with the ARTies.”

Steve took Bucky’s hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. They worked together in companionable silence after that and they were soon finished upgrading all of the ARTies. They watched the last one trundle away back to it’s station and Bucky turned to Steve.

“Thanks for the help. I think that’s the first time I’ve enjoyed doing that job.”

Steve smiled. “Any time. I’m going to go get a few hours of sleep before I need to be on deck.”

Bucky gave him a salute and nodded. “Sleep well, Steve.” He whistled to Charlie who had been playing around with an air duct cover and they walked off together down the corridor towards the engine room.

Steve watched until they were out of sight and then went to his quarters. He flopped into bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.

*

Steve felt fantastic when he woke and the spring in his step must have been obvious because as soon as was on the bridge Clint raised an eyebrow and Nat was very obviously trying not to smile.

“Good job,” Sam said from his console. “I don’t think we’ve ever upgraded all of our ARTies that quickly.”

“It was a team effort,” Steve said.

Clint mumbled something and Nat elbowed him in the ribs but Steve ignored them. He was too happy to care.

The next couple of days were busy with large hauls but Steve relished the challenge of running the ship now. It was like he had been upgraded along with the ARTies and it showed in his organisation and how happy the crew were. Everyone seemed more relaxed and he felt like he truly belonged on _The Shield_ , like he could happily serve on this ship for as long as the crew would have him. He felt like he was healing.

Bucky was a big part of that and Steve knew it.

They met up pretty much every night on the observation deck. They didn’t plan it but barely a night went by when they weren’t sitting together in the huge convex window, staring out into space.

One evening after another good day, Bucky handed Steve a beer as he sat down next to him. He smelled like oil and grease and it was very much becoming _his_ smell. Steve liked it.

“I can’t,” he said, declining the beer. “Technically I’m always on duty.”

Bucky shoved the bottle into Steve’s hands. “I know. It’s non-alcoholic. Mine too. We can pretend it’s real beer.”

Steve chuckled as Bucky settled beside him. “Thanks.”

Bucky let out a long sigh. “Feels good to sit.” He tugged his hair out of its ponytail.

Steve watched Bucky for a moment. He liked how Bucky’s brown hair fell around his face. Bucky turned to him and Steve didn’t turn away quickly enough. He indicated to Bucky’s face.

“Um, you have a grease smudge.”

Bucky wiped his sleeve across his cheek. “Gone?”

Steve shook his head. “No, here...” He brought his thumb up and wiped gently it across the grease streak under Bucky’s left eye. He had somehow gotten a lot closer to Bucky and they stared at each other for a moment.

“Gone?” Bucky asked softly.

Steve swallowed. And he was _totally_ gone. “Yes.” God, he wanted to kiss Bucky so badly but he was ever the professional. He turned back to the observation window.

“Can never get enough of that view,” he said.

“Nope,” Bucky answered and Steve knew that he wasn’t looking out into space.

*

Steve knew something was wrong the moment he stepped onto the bridge that morning. Sam and Nat were at the main console and Clint was chewing his thumbnail anxiously.

“What’s up?” Steve asked as he made his way over to them.

“ESF just got on the com. _The Strike_ was destroyed.”

Steve stopped dead in his tracks. “What?” His voice cracked.

“They don’t think it was an attack. They’re looking for the black box,” Nat said but Steve could see the worry in her eyes.

Steve felt suddenly sick, every good feeling he’d built up in the last few weeks crumbling. Brock Rumlow’s ship. It couldn’t be a coincidence. But...if someone had been gunning for Brock, why blow up the entire ship? All of those people. _The Strike_ was bigger than _The Shield_ , a crew of thirty at least. He could see that Nat, Sam and Clint were thinking the same thing, that they all thought it was Hydra, that Hydra had somehow wormed its way back in but Steve knew it wasn’t. Hydra was gone. This was someone getting revenge on Rumlow for selling out the human race.

“Steve?” Sam asked.

Steve’s first instinct was to call the fleet but he wasn’t military any more. He had no idea what to do. His throat felt tight and his stomach was starting to feel like it had done through most of the war: Tight and roiling. He could feel himself starting to hyperventilate and suddenly Nat was in front of him.

“Steve? Take a deep breath.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “Just listen to my voice and take a deep breath.”

He was trying but everything suddenly felt wrong. He was back on _The Avenger_ and telling everyone to get to the escape pods. He was heading straight for the Hydra mothership, alone. He was about to die.

He was falling into darkness.

*

Steve had been staring at the infirmary ceiling for forty minutes and he let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes. He’d had a panic attack, the first one he’d had for a long time. In front of his crew. He winced. The infirmary door opened and someone, Nat by the sound of her boots clicking on the floor, came in. He heard the squeak of a chair.

“How are you feeling?” Nat asked and Steve opened his eyes and turned his head. She was sitting next to his cot, her face soft but her green eyes hard.

“Like an idiot.”

“Well don’t,” she said. “You’re fine, physically. Clint isn’t. You almost broke his nose when he dived in to break your fall.”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Yes you do,” Nat said. “Hearing about _The Strike_ triggered something and you had a flashback.”

Steve didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to talk about the whole thing with Rumlow, classified or not. He also didn’t want to talk about... _that_. But he got the feeling that Nat wouldn’t be leaving him alone any time soon.

“Doctor-patient confidentiality, Steve.”

He let out a long, broken breath and closed his eyes. “It got hard towards the end. I mean, before the war ended. I was so exhausted. So many people had died, a lot under my command. I didn’t know what else to do. So I told everyone who was left to leave in the escape pods and just decided to hit Hydra one more time. I was just so tired, I...” He swallowed hard. He could feel Nat’s eyes on him.

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” Steve said quietly. “I just...didn’t care if I lived any more. Is that the same?”

Nat didn’t answer right away. “Do you still wish you had died?”

“No,” Steve said and he meant it. He thought about _The Shield_ and the crew and the ARTies. He thought about Bucky. “No.”

Nat took Steve’s hand. “We’ll talk about your time on _The Avenger_ when you’re ready but I don’t think you’re the same person you were back then.”

Steve nodded and closed his eyes again, his hand tightening around Nat’s. “The war will never really be over, will it?”

“We can do what we can to make it better but no. It will always be there. For all of us.”

They sat together in silence for a few moments.

“Are you up for a visitor?” Nat asked. “Bucky’s been pacing for the last hour.”

Steve opened his eyes. Bucky had been in the engine room when he’d had his panic attack. “Sure.”

Nat gave his hand one last squeeze and left the infirmary. Steve shuffled up on the cot and rode out the wave of dizziness. He took a few swallows of water from the bottle next to the cot and felt a little better.

Bucky walked into the infirmary a moment later, his brow furrowed in concern, hands in his flight suit pockets. He slowly came to Steve’s side.

“You okay?” he asked.

Steve smiled weakly. “Yes and no.”

“They found _The Strike_ ’s black box,” he said and his blue eyes never left Steve’s.

Steve wasn’t smiling any more. “And?”

Bucky sat down in Nat’s chair. “The core overheated and there was a catastrophic failure. It was fast.”

They held each other’s eyes. Bucky was thinking the same thing as Steve, he could tell.

“It’s not being treated as suspicious?” Steve asked.

Bucky shook his head.

“Those poor people. That crew joined _The Strike_ after the war. They wouldn’t have known...”

“I guess taking care of Brock alone wasn’t an option,” Bucky said.

Steve could feel tears pricking his eyes. “I could have done something...”

“Like what?” Bucky asked. “You only had your suspicions, you’re not military any more. What could you possibly have done?”

Steve floundered. Bucky shook his head vehemently.

“Don’t add this guilt to the pile you’re already carrying. There was nothing either of us could have done. Just...fuck, Steve.” Bucky stood up so fast, Nat’s chair spun across the floor and hit one of the workbenches. Bucky was angry. He paced and clenched and unclenched his hands. “You did so much during the war, all of us went through _so much_ during that fucking war. We shouldn’t have to keep feeling like we...” he choked.

Tears were running down his face and Steve stood up, a little wobbly, and took Bucky by the shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”

Bucky looked so vulnerable. “You can’t do anything more than you already have, don’t you see that? You just get to live now. You just...”

Steve pulled him in and Bucky immediately held him, burying his face in Steve’s shoulder and sobbing. “You get to live too, Buck.”

They stood together in each other’s arms for a long time.

*

The mood on the ship was sombre that evening. Everyone was quiet at dinner and even the ARTies seem to sense that the mood of the crew was tense. Lucky made quiet questioning whistling noises at Clint’s feet.

“So,” Sam said into his soup. “Are we going to talk about it?”

Steve looked around at everyone. “I’d rather you all did.”

“Was it Hydra?” Clint asked.

Steve shook his head. “Hydra are dead. It just happened.” He hated saying that when he knew better but Bucky had been right. What could Steve have possibly done to change things? “We’re all trying to get our lives back, we can’t keep looking over our shoulders. I know this has shaken everyone up but we can only just try and do the best we can. I...I’m sorry for how I reacted when I heard. It was just too much and that’s not how I wanted you to all see me.”

“What, as a human being?” Sam said. “Come on, Steve. You have nothing to apologize for.” He looked around the rest of the table. “I wish we didn’t all feel the way we feel about this but Steve’s right. We can’t live in fear any more. I know Riley sure as hell wouldn’t want us to.”

Nat held up her beer. “Hear hear,” she said softly.

The mood lightened a little after that and they finished dinner. Steve gathered the dishes when everyone was done.

“I’m going to assign everyone some more time off around our schedule. I think we all need it,” he said, glad when he saw the smiles of gratitude.

“As much as I’m the first port of call when it comes to brain stuff, I’ve put in a request with the academy to have another psychologist be sent out to us for a few days. I think we all need some time to talk with someone that isn’t me,” Nat said.

Steve smiled. “That’s appreciated, Nat. You carry a lot on this ship.”

“Knowing everyone’s dirty laundry is a terrible burden,” she said as she swallowed down her beer and Sam and Clint laughed.

Steve was glad the mood was lifting a little. At least they were communicating and doing something, however small it might seem. He glanced over at Bucky who had been quiet the entire time, picking at a remnant of food on his plate. They hadn’t spoken since the infirmary. Steve itched to hold him again.

“I’ll clear up. Everyone go and do what you do,” Steve said, disappointed when Bucky took his plate to the sink and immediately left for the engine room.

Sam clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder before he left. “You’re doing good, Cap.”

*

Steve went up to the observation deck after his watch but it was empty. He considered going down to the engine room to find Bucky but he wasn’t sure that was a good idea at the moment. He sighed and started out at the stars, feeling very small. He turned away and headed back to his quarters.

He had just thrown on a t-shirt and sweats after a shower when he heard a light knock at his door.

Bucky was in the corridor, in a faded pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt. Steve had never seen him without his flight-suit and he looked soft and vulnerable again, his metal arm strange and beautiful juxtaposed against civilian clothes. He still carried the smell of oil about him and his hair was soft around his face.

“Hi,” Steve said. “I looked for you on the observation deck.” He stepped aside to let Bucky in.

Bucky rubbed his flesh arm with the metal one as he came inside. “I needed to think a little.”

Steve closed the door and walked over to Bucky. “Are you alright? I’m sorry about earlier, in the infirmary. I upset you.”

Bucky frowned and shook his head. “You didn’t. I was already upset. I just...wanted...”

Steve waited, giving Bucky some space. Bucky closed his eyes and let out a breath. He stepped close to Steve and hesitantly raised his hand to Steve’s face. His palm was soft against Steve’s cheek. His eyes searched Steve’s. _Is this okay? Can I do this?_

Steve covered Bucky’s hand with his. _Yes._

Steve leaned in and kissed Bucky softly, giving him the chance to pull away but Bucky just moved closer, his lips responding to Steve’s. Steve wound his arms around Bucky’s waist and they kissed like they didn’t want the other to ever stop. Bucky was the first to pull away. He pressed his forehead to Steve’s and kept his eyes closed.

“Are you okay?” Steve whispered.

Bucky nodded and then opened his eyes. “Yeah.” He finally smiled. “Yeah,”

Steve tucked Bucky’s hair behind his left ear. “Thank you.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed in confusion. “For what?”

“Helping me find myself again.”

Bucky stared at Steve with those blue eyes. “You’re an incredible man, Steve Rogers. You know that?” he said and pulled Steve back to him without any hesitation.

*

“Do you think you’ll ever go back to Earth?” Bucky asked, gently running his fingers up and down Steve’s arm.

Steve nestled his head further into Bucky’s shoulder. They were on Steve’s bed. They had been for the last three hours since Bucky had come to him. They were all kissed out and had just been talking drowsily.

“I don’t think so. My life is up here now. How about you?”

Bucky shook his head a little. “I knew the moment I left Earth orbit that I never wanted to go back. Space suits me. I like the solitude.”

“You never feel lonely?” Steve asked, running his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“People confuse being alone and being lonely too much. I like my own company, always have. But I like this ship. I like the ARTies and I like the crew. They’re always there for me but they know when to leave me alone.”

Steve raised himself up on one elbow and looked down at Bucky. “How about me? Would you let me know if you wanted me to leave you alone?”

Bucky smiled and pulled Steve back down. “I don’t think I’d ever get tired of your company. Besides, when I’m with you I feel like I don’t have to be something I’m not.”

Steve smiled back and kissed Bucky again. “I’m glad.” He snuggled back into Bucky. “It’s late. We should get some sleep. Want to stay here?”

“Yeah,” Bucky yawned then and shifted so Steve could pull the covers over them and turn off the lights. Both of them were still dressed but it was nice, just being able to hold someone again. “Just...”

“Hmm?” Steve asked, breathing in the smell of Bucky’s hair. He must use coconut shampoo because it was there under the oil.

“I get nightmares,” Bucky said quietly into the darkness. “Ever since Riley. I might wake you up.”

“Then I’ll wake up. I get them too. I might wake _you_ up.”

Bucky grunted.

“Wanna talk about them?”

Bucky was silent for a moment. “They’re always different. I mean, they’re the same but it’s either I die with Riley, or my tether gets detached and as I float away I see _The Shield_ destroyed or I just float away and my air runs out. Sometimes it’s...I know what’s coming and I just detach my tether myself and turn off my coms. That one’s the worst.”

Steve kissed Bucky’s forehead, finding it in the dark. “The one I get the most is just abandoning my post and jumping into an escape pod and leaving everyone on _The Avenger_. Not caring and just flying away.”

They held each other and listened to the ship around them, just metal between them and the endless void. But they were together up here at least.

“It’s so fucked up,” Bucky whispered.

“I know,” Steve whispered back. “Sleep. I’ll be here if you wake up.”

Neither of them awoke from bad dreams that night.

*

When Steve blinked awake, he was half expecting Bucky to be gone but he was still sleeping beside him. Steve smiled and watched him for a moment and then carefully got out of bed to use the bathroom. He set his coffee machine going in his small kitchen and rooted around for some cereal, He heard shuffling behind and Bucky emerged from the bedroom trying to flatten his bed hair.

“Coffee?” Steve asked.

Bucky sat down at the small island separating the kitchen from the living area. “Please,” he said gruffly.

“Cereal?”

Bucky made a noise that sounded like a yes and Steve poured them both some bran flakes and used the UHT milk he kept in his quarters. As he passed Bucky his bowl across the counter, Bucky took his hand. He was smiling through his morning hair.

Steve smiled back and rubbed his thumb across Bucky’s wrist. “I’m glad you stayed.”

“Me too,” Bucky said.

“I’m glad I was assigned to this ship.”

“Me too.”

They smiled at each other and Steve knew that he was beginning to heal.

*

Even though Steve and Bucky kept their time together purely to when they weren’t on duty, Steve could see that the rest of crew knew they were a thing. Sam had this constant shit-eating grin on his face and Nat and Clint would have loud conversations about what constituted as romantic dates on a hauling vessel. Steve resolutely refused to say anything and just smiled and nodded politely. It drove them all crazy. Which was a lot of fun. All they had to do was ask “are you guys a thing” but apparently the crew of _The Shield_ were high schoolers and Steve could play innocent to the point of annoyance.

Bucky still liked his privacy however much he had started to come out of his shell again though and Steve wasn’t about to shove him into the thick of things if he didn’t want it. Their relationship was a slow burn and he liked that. It was nice and hell, Steve was old-fashioned. He liked holding hands on the observation deck. He liked talking quietly late into the night in bed with all of his clothes on, just happy that Bucky was there with him. There was no rush. They had time and the whole of space to explore each other.

A kind of peace had started to settle over Steve. He felt safe on this ship with this crew. He liked the work and the monotony. He thought he could quite happily live out the rest of his days doing this.

“Did you always want to be an engineer?” Steve asked Bucky one night. They were in Bucky’s quarters. It was like a workshop with tools and parts on every available surface. Steve loved it.

Bucky was in the small kitchen, cleaning his tools. Steve liked watching him work and Bucky seemed calm and happy with him there too. “Yeah. I loved taking things apart and putting them back together again to see how they worked. Then I just started building things from scratch. Was good at it too. Got into MIT when I was fifteen.”

Steve whistled. “Smart _and_ sexy.”

Bucky gave Steve a grumpy look from the kitchen but his cheeks pinked up a little. “I was never good at much else.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Bucky washed his hands and joined Steve on the couch, sitting between Steve’s legs and resting back against Steve’s chest. “Can’t draw, can’t sew, can’t keep a plant alive longer than a week. But I can build an ARTie that could do all of those things for me.”

Steve laughed softly and kissed the top of Bucky’s head. “I can draw.”

Bucky turned slightly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ve always kept sketchbooks. They help me think.”

Bucky got to his feet and tugged Steve’s hands. “Show me one.”

“What, now?” Steve asked, stumbling to his feet and almost tripping over a metal panel on the living room floor.

“Yep.”

Before Steve could even protest, Bucky was in the corridor and dragging Steve to his quarters. Steve grabbed his latest sketchbook from his bedside draw and brought it to the living room.

“Look, they aren’t even that -” Steve began.

“Shut up, Rogers,” Bucky said with a grin and took the sketchbook from Steve’s hand.

He flipped through slowly. It was mainly filled with sketches of things around the ship: Consoles, corridors, a double page of various ARTies which Bucky chuffed delightedly at. He laughed when he saw the page with a drawing of Clint asleep in the common room. He turned the last page and put the book down, immediately pulling Steve in and kissing him tenderly.

“So you like my drawings?” Steve asked when he managed to get away from Bucky’s lips.

“I like everything about you,” Bucky said and he smiled.

*

Clint was singing at his console, a bit too loudly because he’d turned his hearing aid down again but Steve didn’t mind. He was at his own console on the bridge looking over the flight plans and hauls for the next month. ESF had been keeping in constant communication with all ships, the tragedy of _The Strike_ still hanging over everyone’s heads. Steve chewed on his orgpad stylus. The guilt still gnawed at him but Bucky had been right. What could he possibly have done? He had to realise that it wasn’t up to him to carry everything on his shoulders.

His com crackled and Sam’s voice came on. “Steve? Can you come down to the engine room? We got a problem.”

Steve frowned. It must be a big problem if Sam was calling him down and not Bucky. “On my way.” He signed to Clint that he’d be back ASAP and Clint saluted him.

When he got down to the engine room, Sam and Bucky were looking at several panels and frowning together. Bucky looked particularly anxious which made Steve’s stomach knot.

“Everything okay?”

Sam looked up at him and then looked to Bucky.

Bucky folded his arms. “One of the outer command modules blew and the circuit is fried. Nothing external was the cause, just a fuse but it had some blow back.”

Steve hummed in thought. They were two days away from their payload drop-off and there weren’t any stations until then; it was something they always had to account for but you never know what could happen to throw things off. “Is it an essential module or can we coast until we get to London Two?”

Bucky shook his head. “It’s one of the coms modules on port sector 5. We could be flying dark unless the components are replaced. I...I need to go out there and fix it.”

Steve heard the tremor in Bucky’s voice and realised just why Sam looked so anxious too. Bucky hadn’t done any EVAs since Riley died. Anytime they’d had any problems, they had been fixed in dry-dock. This was a big deal for him.

“I can go out and fix it,” Steve said carefully. “Just talk me through what I need to do. I’m no engineer but I’ve done some zero-g maintenance repairs before.”

Bucky looked up at him and Steve could see how grateful Bucky was. “Thank you for the offer but it’s...complicated. I need to go out.”

Steve had made a personal promise to himself not to bring their relationship into the day-to-day running of the ship but he stepped forward and put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, close to his neck. Sam watched them both, his eyes soft.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked quietly. “I’m certain we can do it another way.”

Bucky took a shaky breath but remained composed. “I need to do this. It’s routine, it’s stuff I’ve done a million times before.” He swallowed. “I need to, Steve.”

“Okay,” Steve said and lowered his hand. “I’m going to round everyone up on deck and run through protocol. Make a note of all tools and ARTies you need and we’ll rendezvous in airlock 6 in 40 minutes.” Steve tapped his orgpad. “I can come out with you?”

Bucky smiled then. “It’s okay. I just need to hear your voice. That will be enough.”

“I’ll be there,” Steve said and was surprised when Bucky ducked forward and kissed him on the cheek before heading into the cargo bay.

Steve cleared his throat and turned to Sam. “Okay, let’s get Nat and Clint up to speed and make sure Bucky has everything he needs.”

Sam nodded and they started down the corridor to the deck lift. “So, you and Barnes _are_ a thing?”

Steve turned to him and his mouth quirked up in a grin. “Yes, we are. Funny that all anyone had to do to know that was to ask.”

Sam snorted and checked Steve with his shoulder. “Seriously though, you both seem happy. Like, just really happy.”

They stepped into the deck-lift and Steve leaned back against the wall as it ascended. “He’s...he’s pretty amazing.”

Sam smiled. “He is. I’m glad for you.”

They stepped out onto the bridge and Steve wasted no time in doing what he had to do. Things like this were a team effort. Anything that could be assigned to the ARTies while the crew were indisposed was handled by Sam. Clint and Nat went to prep a suit for EVA. Steve felt calm knowing that this crew worked so well. He felt nervous for Bucky though. He just had to do his best not to show it.

He headed to the airlock where Clint and Nat were prepping Bucky’s suit. Nat had her crash cart and they were both working seriously and meticulously.

“Suit pressure’s good, no problems,” Clint said. “It’s a nice day out too so this should be a stroll in the park.” He smiled but Steve could sense the unquiet in everyone. He knew it wasn’t fear that Bucky couldn’t do the job, more how being out in space for the first time since Riley was killed would effect him.

“James could do this in his sleep,” Nat said casually and offered Steve a small smile. “He’ll be fine.”

Steve nodded at them, grateful that no-one had to come out and mollycoddle anyone. “Thank you both for dropping your work for this.”

“No brainer,” Clint said and knocked on the helmet of the suit.

Bucky arrived twenty minutes later with his EVA kit and a small ARTie. “He’s mostly for holding things.”

Steve nodded. “Suit’s prepped. We’re all good.”

Bucky stepped into the equipment lock and took his flight suit off. He was already in his thermal bodysuit. “It shouldn’t take me longer than an hour.”

“Take all the time you need,” Steve said. “Clint will join Sam on the bridge and I’ll be manning this console with Nat. We’ll be right on the other side of the wall. We could make up a secret knocking code.”

Bucky smiled as Clint helped him into his suit, but it was humourless. Clint started to raise the helmet to put it on and lock it but Steve gently took it from him.

“I’ll do that,” Steve said softly.

Clint nodded, tapped Bucky’s HUT and went to join Nat in pretending that they were still busy.

Steve put down the helmet and tucked a rogue piece of hair into Bucky’s CCA. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Bucky bit his lip. “I know.”

Steve leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. “I won’t wish you luck. You don’t need it, hotshot.” He picked up Bucky’s helmet and put it on, locking it in place.

“Coms check,” Bucky said, his voice tinny and faraway.

“Coms are good,” Nat said from the console. Clint kissed her on the forehead and left for the bridge.

Bucky took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Steve opened the airlock and helped Bucky through. The little ARTie was tethered to him and hopped in after him. Steve closed the airlock hatch and joined Nat at the console, putting on his headset.

“Okay Buck, we’re dropping pressure and gravity in one minute.”

“Copy,” Bucky said. He sounded calm.

“His vitals are good,” Nat said.

Pressure dropped in the airlock and Bucky was good to proceed outside. Steve had checked his tether line but his stomach churned just the same as Bucky left the ship. His heart rate spiked a little but Nat just shrugged at Steve. _Not a problem_. Bucky’s breathing was even in Steve’s ear and his visuals were good as he shuffled his way along the ship’s outer rail to the module, the little ARTie floating behind him. Bucky clipped himself in place.

“Okay, I’m at the module. Starting removal of the damaged board and component,” Bucky said.

“Copy,” Steve answered. “Take your time.”

“Not too much time though, I’m going to the mall in an hour,” Nat said.

Bucky chuckled over the com and it sounded relaxed and genuine. “What is it this time, pedicure?”

“That’s a little sexist. Besides, have you seen my toenails?”

Clint crackled on over the com. “Confirmed: Nat’s toenails make me heave.”

Steve laughed too this time and he smiled at Nat. She mouthed _piece of cake_ at him.

*

They were coming up forty minutes and everything was running smoothly. Steve didn’t want to fully relax until Bucky was back on board but it seemed like this was pretty much in the bag.

“Okay, just a few more tweaks and we’re all set,” Bucky said, the confidence in his voice making Steve swell with pride. “I’m going to mount the board so you should be getting some data through in a sec.”

“Copy,” Nat said. “Easy peasy.”

“Sending data n -”

Bucky was cut off by a loud CRACK Steve and Nat jumped at the sound just as a flash lit up Bucky’s visual feed. He screamed. Steve’s blood froze as Nat tapped furiously at her console.

“Bucky? Report. Report now,” Steve said into his headset.

Bucky was breathing heavily and almost sobbing. “Shit shit shit shit. I can’t...”

His vitals started to flash and Nat clenched her fists. He was panicking.

“James, are you hurt? What happened?”

“I don’t know, I can’t...” Bucky stuttered. Steve could hear his teeth chattering together.

Steve patched in to one of the outer camera feeds. The ARTie that had been tethered to Bucky was smashed to pieces, just a few pieces of metal still attached to the line. He could see some fragments glittering as they floated away.

“Buck, I think the ARTie got hit by some debris. It was the ARTie. Are you hurt?” Steve said, willing his voice to remain calm.

But Bucky wouldn’t answer, he was making a horrible hoarse noise and Steve could feel his own panic setting in.

“Bucky? Please respond.”

Nat turned to Steve. “His suit isn’t breached and I think he’s uninjured but he’s chugging his O2 too fast.”

“I’m coming down,” Sam said over the com. “I’ll suit up and get him.”

“No, just wait,” Steve said. “He can do this. Buck, listen to me. Listen to my voice, okay? I’m right here. You’re okay and I’m okay. Just listen to me.”

“Steve,” Bucky gasped. “I can’t...I’m going to die, I’m going to float away...I’m going to die...”

“No, you’re not. There’s nothing out there to hurt you, you’re tethered to the ship, you’re safe. Nothing is going to happen to you, I swear on my life.”

Bucky was crying now too and Steve’s heart was breaking. “I’m...I’m...” He was hyperventilating.

“Bucky, we’re on the observation deck,” Steve said, softening his voice. “Just you and me, staring out at the stars. Close your eyes and breathe. Find me on the observation deck.”

Bucky’s breathing changed. It was still loud and hoarse but he was obviously trying to control it.

“That’s it,” Steve said. “We’re standing together. I have you in my arms. I should be looking at the stars but I’m looking at you instead. You’ve made everything better, Buck. I didn’t...I didn’t think I’d be able to get to where I am now but I have and you’re a large part of that.”

Bucky’s breathing was easing.

“I didn’t think...I could start to fall in love with anyone again. Not just after the war, I mean. I was never very good with people on that side of things to begin with but the war just took all of that away from me.”

Bucky was breathing steadily now.

Steve swallowed. “You make me want to be a better captain. You make me want to be a better man, Buck.”

The coms were silent for a moment and then Bucky’s voice came through again. “Sending data now.” It was shaky but no longer on the edge of terror.

Steve turned to Nat and she nodded. “Data received. Finish up, James.” She turned to Steve and quickly wiped away a tear that was on her cheek. She covered her headset mike with her hand. “In love? We all thought you guys were just having sex or something.”

Steve smiled even though he felt like he might shake apart any second, the adrenaline finally receding. “I’m an all or nothing kind of guy.”

Nat leaned over and hugged him. “You did great,” she whispered and then pulled back. “Come on, let’s get him in.”

*

Steve stood back and let Nat do her thing when Bucky was finally back in the equipment lock and his helmet was off. He protested weakly but gave up easily, letting her check his vitals, give him some O2, check his pupils. Steve had told Sam and Clint to stay where they were for now. He knew that Bucky would want some space.

“You’re going to the infirmary,” Nat said sternly. “Overnight at least.”

Bucky nodded weakly, still slumped in his suit. He looked exhausted. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat and his eyes were bloodshot. “The ARTie...” he began.

“Only you would be more worried about an ARTie than yourself,” Nat said and she turned to Steve. “I need to get something from med lab. Stay with him for a sec?” Steve knew that was Nat Code for _you guys need to be alone for a few minutes._

Steve let her pass. “Sure.” He stepped into the equipment lock and knelt down in front of Bucky. He was watching Steve, his eyes tired but alert. “Doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said and fumbled for Steve’s hand, the bulky glove clutching it tightly. “I’m falling in love with you, too.”

Steve was momentarily taken aback but covered Bucky’s suit glove with his other hand. “You are?”

“I needed to say it. Out here...there’s no point sitting on things. Not any more.”

Steve leaned in as quickly as Bucky’s suit would allow him and kissed him awkwardly but neither of them cared. They kissed until Nat cleared her throat loudly behind them and demanded that Steve help Bucky out of his suit and up to med lab.

*

Bucky was fine and returned to his duties the following day, under instructions to at least try and take it easy but Steve knew he wouldn’t. He loved his work too much. Apparently most of the ARTies on the ship had been on the coms during Bucky’s EVA and when he returned to the engine room, he was swamped with robot hugs. Even though he got a few bruises in the process, he was happy for the rest of the day.

A few evenings later, Bucky surprised everyone to dinner in the common room. It was a full-blown roast chicken with roasted potatoes, vegetables and stuffing. Everyone seemed at a loss for words. Bucky ushered everyone into their seats.

“Come on, the gravy will get cold,” he said.

Clint’s eyes went wide. “Real gravy?”

Bucky smiled and poured it over Clint’s food.

Steve couldn’t keep the smile off of his face all through dinner. Everyone was happy and laughing. He glanced up at Bucky a few times and his heart fluttered when Bucky grinned at him. Since the EVA, the only time they had really spent with each other was at night and even then, they barely managed to speak for long before one of them was asleep. This was great though. This was perfect.

When everyone had pretty much finished, Bucky stood and nervously cleared his throat. “Um, I just wanted to say thank you to everyone. Not just for the other day but just...thank you. For always being there for me. You guys are my family and I don’t say how much I care for you all enough.”

Clint raised his beer bottle. “We know. We all feel the same.”

“It’s been rough,” Sam said. “For all of us. One day at a time, huh?”

They all raised their bottles and toasted. Steve took Bucky’s hand under the table and Nat went and got ice cream for everyone.

“Why don’t you boys go and spend some time together?” Sam said when everyone had finished dessert. “We can clean up.”

“Uh,” Steve began but Bucky grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.

“Thanks,” Bucky called back to the common room as soon as they were out in the corridor.

“Where are we going?” Steve asked with a grin.

They were in Bucky’s quarters before Steve knew it and Bucky barely had the door closed before he was kissing Steve tenderly. “I’d like to make a formal request, Captain,” Bucky said softly into Steve’s ear as he ran his hands gently up and down Steve’s back.

“Hmm?”

“Sleep with me.”

Steve grabbed the front of Bucky’s flight suit and started to lead him to the bedroom. “Permission granted.”

*

Life went on for the crew of _The Shield_ and life beyond the war started to repair itself. Rumours still floated around about Brock Rumlow’s involvement with Hydra and the death of his crew but Steve knew they no-one would ever really know the truth. It still got to him sometimes, late at night when he couldn’t sleep. Those nights were getting fewer and further between but they still happened. They still happened for Bucky too, more than they did for Steve but they got through them together as best they could.

A psychologist joined the crew for three months and things improved further for them all. Charles eased some of the burden that Nat had to carry being the only doctor on board and they were all sad to see him go when his time was up. They were a tighter knit crew after that and Steve knew that he  had finally found a place he could call home.

He woke one night and after worrying that he’d wake Bucky with his tossing and turning, he headed up to the observation deck. He breathed deeply as he looked out of the window. They were passing along the rim of the Kuiper Belt beyond Neptune’s orbit and Steve had been wondering whether to ask the crew if they wanted the chance to visit Earth again. He didn’t want to go back but he knew that Sam and Clint had family there still. He sighed.

He heard soft footsteps behind him and turned. Bucky was just wearing a pair of sweat pants, his hair loose and soft around his face. He pressed himself to Steve’s back and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist.

“Everything okay?” he said into Steve’s neck.

“Yeah, just had trouble sleeping.” He turned and caught Bucky’s lips.

“Anything I can do?” Bucky asked.

Steve leaned back into Bucky a little. “I have you and I have the stars. That’s all I need.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for sticking with me on this fic! It was pretty much 75% finished when I posted last week but deadlines in the day job meant I couldn't work on it for a bit. Here's hoping my next fic won't take so long to write and post!


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